Codename: Bear: Secret Agent (Codename Universe Book 1)

by Geoffrey C Porter

  Enigma looked into his eyes. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a food bar. "Eat this."

  The man obliged. "Can you stand?" Enigma asked.

  He stood up. Enigma said, "Come on. I'm taking him out of here, Bear. Finish your sweep."

  I stepped through the last door. It led me outside. Zen and Thomas came out of another door, with a disheveled man in tow. Zen asked, "How is RedCat?"

  I wanted to kill. Furious. Wanted to kill with my bare hands.

  "Bear?" She asked.

  "His dying words were to tell you he loved you," I said.

  "You bastard! You let him die!"

  "I did everything I could."

  "It's not his fault," Thomas said.

  Tears streaked down Zen's cheeks. Then she growled. "Let's comb these woods. Thomas, take our guy back to the car and get him out of here."

  "Yes," I said.

  Zen walked into the trees, and I followed.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  "We forgot the barn?" I asked.

  Zen radioed, "Did we do the barn?"

  Nay's followed. Zen hiked back towards the building. I kept my eyes and ears open. The barn was painted red believe it or not and had garage sized doors on the end. Human sized doors were next to the big entrances. There were open windows along the sides of the structure. Zen ran up to the door and kicked it full force with her foot. It budged, but it didn't open. "Try the knob," I said.

  Zen twisted the handle of the door and pulled it open. We looked inside. Stalls and horses, but no people, no bombs. There was a second floor to the building, and we raced up a ladder. Hay loft. Nothing. Well there was hay up there, but that didn't help us.

  Ambulances came for our rescued people and for RedCat. Zen quit crying. I wanted to cry in her place. We made it back to base, and Nancy called a meeting.

  "The three men you rescued today were held captive for a long time. One was our diplomat, and the other two men were corporate CEOs. Captains of industry."

  My hands balled into fists. "We should go on the offensive. Take out Centurian himself."

  "We don't even know what he looks like," Thomas said. "We've captured a few underlings but nobody close enough to even give us a description."

  Nancy tapped her fingers on her desk rapidly. "Bear, according to RedCat's last wishes, he wanted you to say something at the memorial."

  A Eulogy? I didn't know what to say. Nancy continued, "It's scheduled for tomorrow afternoon at three."

  "I don't know," I whispered.

  "You were his friend. It doesn't have to be lengthy."

  I wiped a tear out of my eye.

  Thomas asked, "Adjourned?"

  "Yes," Nancy said, "that's fine."

  I ate early, and I was hoping to avoid the team, but they joined me at our regular table. We didn't talk. I made my way back to my room and worked on the Eulogy.

  My door buzzer rang. I looked at the security monitor. It was Zen with her hands behind her back. I opened the door, and she pulled a six-pack of Chor'Tan Ale and smiled. "I'm not in the mood," I said.

  Her face turned hard as stone. "I'll be damned if I'm going to be turned down by a friend for a few drinks on the day my man died."

  I stepped out of her way. "Come in."

  "I thought you'd see it my way."

  A bottle was thrust in my hands, and I found I was a lot thirstier than I remember being in the past. Zen said, "You know what I'm going to miss the most?"

  "The sex?" I asked, already down half a bottle.

  "No, you fucking pig. I'm going to miss cuddling together at night. Sex is nothing."

  I kept drinking. Zen drank, too. We opened our second bottles. Standing around was no good, and the chairs were unstable, so we sat together on my bed. She squeezed me tight. "Hold me," she said.

  We fell asleep before the second bottles ran dry. We were up in time for breakfast though, and we ate with Thomas, Enigma, and Archangel. A priest said a few words at the memorial. Something about the valley of the shadow of death. Nancy was seated up front. She stepped up to a podium.

  "He died serving mankind. His death meant a restoration of life to three souls. He died a hero."

  She motioned for me. Oh yeah. I didn't have a print out or notes or anything. I walked up to the podium and stood behind it. "RedCat was… No, Jim was a friend. He was the first friend I made at the Agency. He was more than a friend to me. He was a brother. It could have been me stepping through that doorway instead of him. I think the only thing Death teaches us is to live life. We'll never know when it's our time to die. I want to always remember Jim for his smile and his laugh, for his love of the simple things in life."

  A few men clapped. I didn't see why. Stepped down from the podium. Zen stood up and kissed me on the cheek. I sat down. The priest said an Our Father, and we dispersed.

  After dinner, I had an email from Nancy. "My office, before breakfast, Nancy."

  I got up early. Enigma, Thomas, Zen, and Archangel were in the hall outside Nancy's office. Not being shy, I pushed into the office. Nancy and a guy were in there. The guy I knew from classes. DogSeven was his codename. He was tall and lean, with blonde hair and light blue eyes. He wore the same clothes as the rest of us.

  Nancy started pushing buttons. "Do you guys know DogSeven?"

  Zen said, "We know him."

  "He's joining your team."

  Zen spit on the floor. Thomas reached out and shook hands with the newcomer.

  "For most of you, mission three is over, and it was a huge success. We got a lead on one of Centurian's top men," Nancy said.

  My right hand balled into a fist and smashed into my left palm. And yes, with steel bones, it hurt kind of bad.

  "Assassinate or capture?" Archangel asked.

  Nancy pushed a button, and a picture of a man with long grey beard and potbelly appeared. "We must capture this man alive. That's a direct order. This is Centurian's bomb maker."

  "Alive?" I asked.

  "Alive! We have numerous pictures of this, The Pumpkin Spice, with other Centurian higher ups. We might even have a picture of this man with Centurian, but without capturing him alive, we'll never know."

  "The Pumpkin Spice?" Zen asked.

  "That's what they call him."

  Thomas said, "We capture him alive."

  Archangel whispered, "I hate that order."

  "It makes it more fun," Zen said.

  "Where is he?" I asked.

  Nancy looked at something on her computer. "He moves around a lot. Right now, Miami, Florida."

  DogSeven spoke for the first time. "When do we leave?"

  "You can have breakfast, but the clock is ticking."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Thomas stood up first. "We eat food bars on the plane. Let's run."

  The lot of us ran through the hallways, stopping at the elevator. DogSeven was first there. "Armory or Garage?"

  "Garage," Thomas said. "They actually store a set of all our gear in the hangar for our plane. We do armory if it's local."

  We pulled into the plane and secured our truck. We sat on the benches.

  "No cards," Thomas said. "Unless one of you youngsters were thinking ahead this morning?"

  Archangel spoke very quietly, but very seriously. "We could discuss politics, religion, and world affairs."

  "Shut up," Zen and I said in unison.

  "Perhaps a discussion on various methods for producing the strongest Cayenne Peppers without any genetic engineering." DogSeven said this with the straightest of faces.

  Archangel nodded over and over. "Yes, a thinking man's effort."

  Zen leaned forward. "I am, in fact, curious about potential methods for growing strong peppers although I favor types of green pepper and jalapeno. In fact, I gene spliced the two plants together in a lab, but the Frankenstein didn't bear fruit."

  "I say, no cards, no sleep, we can discuss growing plants," Thomas said.

  I stepped away from them. Then I lay on a bench. They beg
an quite vigorously to discuss methods of sowing seeds, weeding, watering, and applying shit to the dirt, whether chemical or organic. Thank the heavens above I fell asleep.

  I stirred awake a few hours later. The rest of them were comatose clutching bottles of Chor'Tan Ale. No that was the dream. Reality was they were munching on food bars. I pulled my share out of the bin and a glass of energy-packed fruit drink. Probably had Methamphetamines in it. I sometimes wondered with the Agency, but I felt pretty secure my thoughts were unfounded.

  The plane landed, and we drove fast to a suburban neighborhood. The community was gated, but Thomas produced a bogus key card. Each house was set up on about an acre of well-manicured lawn. The structure we were looking for was three stories tall with a basement. We hadn't been able to get a floor plan of the house. We were wearing our jackets unzipped, pistols in our armpit, and stunners in our jacket pockets. Twin stunners instead of any grenades. Archangel was carrying our only submachine gun, a rat-ta-tat model firing 5.56mm rifle rounds with a 100 round drum, but no extra drums. No helmets. We did have comm gear on at least.

  The house was painted brick red with white trim. A couple of strategically placed fruit trees dotted the front lawn. Thomas said, "We knock first. The locals have been kind enough to provide us badges if we need to show them, and a search warrant."

  "A search warrant for 'The Pumpkin Spice'?" DogSeven asked.

  "With a picture stapled right next to it."

  Thomas stepped up to the door first and knocked.

  A speaker sounded on the corner of the doorway. "More Agency men for me? Oh my, what'll I ever do?"

  Thomas kicked the door in, and we raced inside. The walls were painted black, with mirrors in picture frames hung up and down the room. The only light came in from the open doorway, and the floors were a dark hardwood. Two stairways led to the left and right, and a hallway went on into the house. Archangel said, "Hallway."

  Zen said, "Up and left."

  "I go with Zen," Enigma.

  Thomas moved away. "Hallway."

  I looked at the new guy. He actually looked confused. I said, "Up, right."

  Racing up the stairs to the right, I didn't even look to see where DogSeven was.

  Enigma's voice quivered across the gear. "We've stepped into some kind of modified danger room!" Gunfire echoed across the radio.

  The same voice that spoke outside the house said, "Yes, this room has been modified to cause actual damage to players. I'm hoping to capture as many of you alive as I can."

  Thinking back, I studied danger room technology in class. "Shoot the floor! The energy transmitters should be in the floor and ceiling."

  Gunfire thumped through the walls of the house. "You earned your keep today, mister," Zen said.

  The voice spoke again. "No Pumpkin Spice for you!"

  I wish I had grenades instead of stunners. And that new guy, like could he breathe any louder? Going to get us both killed.

  I opened a door and stepped into the room. There were numbers counting down on a big box. There was a keypad though too, and an illuminated green bar that was halfway full. I undid my bag and loosened the screws in the top of the case. The numbers read 1:43, so I wasn't in a huge hurry. I should have been though, like RedCat's death was hitting me hard right then. Boom, I could be just like him.

  The top of the box came off. One timer, one integrated circuit, two car batteries, three capacitors. Three detonators. I honestly wish I could just rip out the detonators, but they were below a layer of wooden planks.

  I reached for the first fuse wire. Wait, trigger wire? Two of the fuse wires had tiny copper filaments running behind them. I separated the strands. Then I snipped all three fuse wires.

  "Have you done this before?" DogSeven asked.

  I wanted to smack him so bad, but that wouldn't help.

  I pulled my stunner and went back into the hallway. We swept that whole wing. Every room, black walls with mirrors hung. No furniture. Nobody lived here: it was just a massive trap. Zen radioed, "I got nothing."

  "We're scouting the basement, nothing," Thomas said.

  I radioed, "Zen, have you found stairs leading up?"

  I thought back. A hatch door in the ceiling in the main hallway. "Main hallway, Zen."

  DogSeven and I ran back that way. I pulled the hatch down by the cord and a ladder unfolded.

  I took the first step up the ladder.

  Zen pushed me. "No! It's my turn!"

  But it wasn't her turn. DogSeven opened the last one on our side.

  She raced up the stairs with her stunner in her hand. She shouted down to us. "Come on. It's empty."

  I went up the ladder next. One big room, with a table in the center and a computer on top of it. One of those little miniature computers, plus a flatscreen, and keyboard and mouse. The screen displayed a login prompt, which made me think it wasn't all packed with explosives.

  "Don't touch it," I said.

  "He's right," Thomas said. "We need to get an evidence team in here. Let's sweep the building again, and call backup."

  "Backup as in locals?" DogSeven asked.

  "Yes."

  Chapter Thirty

  We pulled out of the neighborhood when police cruisers pulled in with flashing lights. The hazmat truck was rolling down the street. The Agency had a three-story building with a parking garage on the outskirts of downtown, and that was our destination.

  We headed towards a briefing room. A 3D Nancy materialized over a table. "Miami has traffic cams which can be coded with a picture of a person. If the person drives past, we should get a report. You've all been assigned vehicles. The objective will be for the locals to pull him over, but we're going to try and have an accident with him, too. Your goal will be to intercept and crash into the Pumpkin Spice."

  "Traffic cams?" I asked.

  "Their intent is to deter traffic violations, but with the right court order, can be used to track and find people."

  I wondered about the legality of that, then I remembered that Centurian wasn't following any rules. When he blew up that shopping mall, he killed a dozen innocents. Almost killed me, I couldn't let traffic cams bother me.

  "What vehicles?" DogSeven asked.

  Six pictures of vehicles appeared with our names over them. Zen got a red Mustang convertible. DogSeven was in a Camaro. Thomas was in a van. Archangel was in a BMW. Enigma would be driving a Corvette. My name showed over a beat up old Toyota. I groaned.

  Nancy let out a little hiss. "That's a Military Sport Corolla, and it's the fastest of the bunch. Don't complain. The keys are in the ignition, and each one has GPS mapping."

  "Let's get some real food," Thomas said.

  We went to the cafeteria and ate lean sirloin with baked potatoes. I was halfway through the second steak, and the intercom started blaring. "To the vehicles! He's been spotted!"

  I ran, and the others were a split second behind me. The Toyota purred to life, and I rocketed out of that garage. The beast was fast, and I pushed it to its limit. The car made the prettiest hum as I hit fourth gear on the freeway. According to my GPS and the last sighting, I was closest to our target. He was pulled to a stop at a red light, but two cars stood between us. I had to zip in and out of the different lanes to catch up to him. Then I rammed him from behind.

  His brake lights lit up, and we pulled over to the side. I knew the locals weren't far away. I stepped out of my car, as did my target. He was chubby, wearing blue jeans and a button up flannel shirt. I said, "Hello?"

  He glared at me. "Driving kind of fast today weren't we?"

  "My girlfriend is having a baby, and I want to be there." Best lie I could come up with on short notice.

  Zen and Archangel both drove past. A local pulled up, and two officers stepped out of the car. They approached. Drawing their guns, they pointed them at the fat guy. "You're under arrest!"

  The man opened his eyes wide. "For what? I got rear-ended."

  "Questioning," the left officer said. They cuf
fed him and hauled him off. An evidence crew showed up as I was leaving the scene. I was back in the Agency building enjoying a nice book, when Nancy paged us. We met in the conference room.

  Nancy started. "We got the wrong guy."

  "Bullshit," Thomas said.

  "He checks out. Driver's license, birth certificate, credit history, everything. He's not our man. They did find a tin of Pumpkin Spice in his glove box, but that's all we've got."

  My mind processed everything. "How long can we hold him?"

  "Seventy-two hours."

  I snapped the fingers on right hand three times. "Is there an archive of old driver's licenses and birth certificates? I'd bet if we go back a few years, our man won't even exist."

  "Not bad," Thomas said.

  Nancy started punching keys on her keyboard. "I'll look into it."

  A day passed. Nancy joined us. They moved the Pumpkin Spice to an interview room. Nancy and I went in there with a folder full of pictures.

  Nancy pulled out pictures one by one. "Do you recognize this picture?"

  The fat man sighed. "I've seen all these pictures a dozen times. They look like me, but they're not me. I don't recognize any of them."

  Nancy closed the folder, which was my cue.

  "We checked the archives," I said. "Your identity only goes back 14 months. Archives older than that, and you don't exist."

  "That doesn't make any sense," the Pumpkin Spice said.

  "We did find a reference to a Murphy Smithers. Two years older than you. Looks just like you." I pulled out a picture of a high school debate team. A young Pumpkin Spice was in the picture, plus younger versions of people in the other pictures.

  The fat man closed his eyes. "I want a lawyer. I want a phone call."

  I slammed my fist down on the table. "Tell us which one is Centurian!"

  "I don't know what you're talking about. Those pictures could be anybody."

  Nancy whispered in my ear. "We have drugs we can give him."

  "Those drugs don't work," I said.

  "They work sometimes. It's the only way."

  She pulled me out of the room. "I have bad news."